


Sugar & Spice

by unicyclehippo



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:56:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicyclehippo/pseuds/unicyclehippo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill - "I would love if you could write something about Carmilla and Laura's first kiss". I hope this is okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar & Spice

Laura is optimistic and naive and childish and she likes sugar and happy movies. She loves the idea of a sweeping, romantic love that defies all odds and moves souls. She loves her friends and petting animals and reading her books and indulging in things that make her happy and she tries to protect people who need protecting. She stands up for people when she can - even if she wasn't so tall, it still meant something. She holds onto her bright optimism in the face of her roommate going missing. In the face of the Dean, six feet of terrifying ancient vampire bearing down upon her with wicked gleaming teeth. In the face of her own certain destruction, she holds onto that optimism. But when it's Carmilla, defeated, bloody, with hands raw from the touch of that sword - that  _damn_ sword, Laura wished she had never heard of it - and smoking from the force of the Hungry Light...it takes everything Laura has to grip tooth and nail to the idea of a happy ending. 

This is a girl who risked everything, herself, her heart, her future, to find a sword that threatened to burn her alive with every step and to lop off the head of her own mother for her. 

And she flinched away from Laura's touch. 

But that didn't mean that Laura could stop trying. "Carmilla," she said quietly, kneeling on the cracked pavement and shattered glass and burning rubble next to her. She laid soothing cool fingers on the vampires wrist. Her hands Laura didn't dare look at. "Carmilla, we have to go."

The building was teetering on the edge of collapsing and the ominous creaking sent shivers up Laura's spine. "We have to. Carmilla?" The pleading tone made the dark-haired girl look up. 

"She's gone then?" Carmilla asked flatly. The dead look - no pun intended, not in such a tense moment as this - in her eyes unsettled Laura but she nodded and tapped Carmilla's wrist again. 

"Yes. Yeah, you did it. You did it," she told her. Her other hand came up to touch Carmilla's face but there it was again, that flinch. 

"So we're done." The vampire struggled to her feet, slipped her arm away from Laura's hand, and limped from the wreckage of the Dean's house-mansion-office thing. Laura didn't know quite what to call it. She just knew that it was imposing and impressive and the Dean ruled from it with an iron grip - or she had, and it had been. 

"Carm, please," Laura started after the vampire and perhaps it was the nickname rife with apology and thanks and hope, perhaps it was because Carmilla couldn't hold her own weight, but Carmilla let the smaller girl wrap an arm around her waist and lead her back to their familiar and thankfully undamaged dorm room. 

First, Laura eased Carmilla down onto her own bed. No one had touched a thing since she had walked out of their dorm room, _go away, Carmilla. Go run and hide. We're done_ echoing in her ears. 

The second thing Laura did was grab her pillow. She wasn't sure if Carmilla still wanted it but she wrapped her arms around it and stood in front of her roommate, her lower lip caught between her teeth. When dark eyes looked up and zeroed in on the yellow fabric, Laura held it out and she kept back a relieved sigh when trembling arms locked around it and pulled it sharply into Carmilla's chest. 

Next, a stop off to the kitchen. A glass of blood held out for Carmilla to take - but her hands were red and raw still and she stared blankly at the glass. So, a reenactment then of the night when she was bound in rope and Laura carefully held the glass to her lips and let her gulp the life-saving liquid. Laura barely even saw the colour anymore, barely thought about what it really was. It was for Carmilla, and that was enough. And finally, she dove under her bed to extract the formidable medi-kit her father had provided for her and lugged it over to Carmilla's bed. 

She sat carefully next to Carmilla. Wouldn't blame her for lashing out but hoping that she wouldn't. Carmilla watched her with cautious dark eyes and, when Laura held out her hand, she placed her own in it with palm facing the ceiling. Laura clucked over it. The skin was already healing, pale white replacing the burnt red and black, but Laura still wanted to clean them and make sure that she was okay. Daubing the cleaning alcohol on her wounds drew hisses from the vampire, met by apologetic looks and Laura pulled away each time the pained noise escaped Carmilla's lips. By the time they were done, both hands, the skin was nearly healed. Carmilla had her third glass of blood in her hands and Laura was tenderly bandaging them. She let her fingers trail over the white strips and closed her eyes tight. With nothing left to do, she was horrified to find that tears were pushing at her eyes and she dropped Carmilla's hands to stand and take the used glass to the sink. 

It was when she was done scrubbing at it as well as she could - that was, it was sitting red and stained in the sink and Laura found herself unable to touch it at all because her hands refused to move, finding them locked on the edge of the sink - that the tears began in earnest. 

They were quiet. She didn't feel like she deserved to cry: today was good. They won. The girls - and Kirsch - were safe. The Dean was gone. The Hungry Night Light was too. And Carmilla, against all odds, was alive. She knew that. But the tears came anyway. 

There was a light touch to her shoulder, one that jumped to her cheek and turned Laura to face Carmilla. "Why are you crying?" Carmilla asked. Her voice was rasping sore in her throat and it occurred to Laura that perhaps the Blade of Hastor burned people from the inside out. She didn't like that thought. 

"I'm not," Laura weakly denied, brushing fiercely at her tears with brusque strokes of her hands. Carmilla just raised her eyebrows - she could see Laura crying. What was the point of lying? Laura seemed to realise that at the same time and her shoulders slumped in defeat. She lowered her hands and Carmilla's took their place, thumbs wiping so very, very gently at the tears. 

"Why are you crying?" Carmilla asked again. When Laura looked at her with wide eyes, an open vulnerable face that just trusts like Carmilla never thought she would see again from Laura or anyone because monster monster monster played in repeat in her mind like some vile stand in for a heartbeat. Carmilla's fingers shook on Laura's skin. She held her tenderly before letting her go. 

"I'm just so glad that you're okay," Laura murmured. Before Carmilla could wonder at that, at Laura crying  _for_ her out of happiness, relief that shook her to the core, Laura's hands were on the back of her neck and she was pushing herself up on her toes so they were on the same level and soft lips brushed over her cheek. Laura paused. Then her lips were on Carmilla's and it was soft until it wasn't and then it was needy and held all the aftershocks of fear and relief and Carmilla tasted like ash and something metallic and smooth and Laura tasted the same way the air had felt twisting into Carmilla's hair, brushing against her skin when she had climbed out of her decades in the dark. 

"Carmilla," she said. "Stay."

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on tumblr as well - URL unicyclehippo - and feel free to send me more prompts if you would like. (I, personally, would love it.)


End file.
